2017-05-01 | 9:11 a.m.
Have had the keys to our house now for an entire month! Only been in properly for nine days though as prior to that we lived an opulent life of having our rented flat in Rotherhithe as well as our new house, as we waited for the flat's lease to expire. We stayed in the flat as it was closer to work and that's where all our furniture was.
So moving was fun. NOT. I don't think I have ever cleaned so much grime in my life, from both the new house and the old flat, which felt like a double whammy of unfairness but at least I am now au fait with all the colours of the grime rainbow! And have learned that if you don't move a sofa for three years it will indeed be truly revolting behind it.
I suppose at least the people who sold us the house did SOME cleaning, like the oven, and as Terry, one of the sellers - nice chap, gave us the keys he proudly announced, "I have left you three pots of goose fat in the fridge!"
Um, thanks!? The bottle of champagne he also gave was received much more gratefully.
Love the house so very much - I am becoming a keen gardener, even though I have no idea what I'm doing and I planted a little primrose on the first weekend we were here and then there was a mini heatwave and we were back in London so I couldn't water it and now it resembles dried up soggy cornflakes.
But I have created a kitchen window box of plants and flowers, cannily and strategically placing a tall fern in the exact eyeline of where my neighbours leave their bins so it's not been a total failure!
We have no idea how the thermostat works yet and Ollie seems to take enormous joy in my lack of knowledge of all things house-related, such as the cost of a tin of paint. When queried my reply was, "Er, I don't know, £8?" To which his response was, "HA, no! It is £15 plus!" Need to study a B&Q catalogue so I can surprise him with my DIY prices wisdom in future.
I've barely worked over the past couple of weeks due to moving and court Easter hols so my shoulder's not been too bothersome, though my osteo thinks I could have something called a labral tear and will need physiotherapy, but I need a doctor's appointment to try and get some sort of scan first (note to self: join a doctor's).
My dad is having his stoma reversal operation on 8th June so my world seems to be ticking along as it ought to. I was going to remind him that's the day of the general election and to apply for a postal vote, but I think he'll vote UKIP so I'm not going to bother.
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